


Idle Hands

by Aeolist, thebaddestwolf



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1248976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeolist/pseuds/Aeolist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebaddestwolf/pseuds/thebaddestwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prompt: The Doctor hurts his hands and needs Rose’s assistance when it comes to, well, a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Go, go, go, go!” the Doctor yelled, grabbing Rose’s hand and pulling her through the twisting corridors of the gleaming, empty ship.

“What’s chasing us?” She attempted to glance over her shoulder, but they turned a corner before she could catch a glimpse of whatever had spooked him.

“Not chasing – tracking. Automated weapons system, activates when the ship senses intruders.” He pulled her to the left, following another hallway. “TARDIS is this way. Should’ve known! Sixtieth century security protocols – notoriously over-reactive.”

“Are you sure this is the right—”

“Yes! Like a homing beacon, up here.” He tapped his temple.

Rose pumped her legs harder, her hand growing warm and moist even as his remained cool. They rounded another corner and the TARDIS appeared in view down the way – blue and reassuring and just past a thick metal door that was steadily sliding closed.

“No!” the Doctor yelled, releasing Rose and rushing forward. Sliding his hands into the gap, he grunted, pulling at the doors with obvious effort that succeeded only at stopping them from closing any further.

“What’re you doing? Let it close and sonic the thing!”

“Deadlock seal,” he said, struggling to pull the doors apart. “Won’t be able to get it open once it closes.”

Rose took a step closer, sidling up next to him and reaching her hands towards the gap as well.

“Don’t,” he said, scrunching up his nose.

“Why not? Four hands are better than two, yeah?”

“Rose.” His tone held a note of warning and before she could press him again, the doors slammed shut. He let out a yell, nostrils flaring, and on instinct Rose shouted his name, reaching forward and wrapping her hands around his wrists.

“Stop. Back away. Also,” he said through a gasp, “that was why, if you were curious.”

“Are you okay?”

“Great, thanks.”

Forcing herself to let his wrists go and taking a step back, Rose watched him for several long seconds as he managed to pull the doors open a crack once again. His brow was furrowed, eyes narrowed and shining, breaths coming short and fast and shallow. She chewed on her thumb, watching helplessly, until the sound of machinery – a grinding that seemed to emanate from everywhere at once – distracted them both. They turned in tandem, eyes snapping toward the sound, but there was nothing coming down the corridor.

“That’ll be the gas release,” the Doctor said, a bead of sweat dripping down his cheek. The gap in the door was a few inches wide, now, but his arms were trembling.

“Gas release?”

“Treanfenol. Instant poison, even to me.”

“Poison gas? Right. All right, that’s enough. Shift,” Rose said, stepping forward again and reaching into the gap despite his objections.

She caught sight of his fingers and choked out his name, breath leaving her in a whoosh, her throat going dry. They were purple and swollen, the knuckles bloodied. His eyes found hers, glassy and wide, but he said nothing.

Letting out a deep breath and bracing herself, Rose pulled the doors with everything she had and they parted enough for her to squeeze through. She turned, maintaining her hold until she was able to press her back against one door, lifting her body and propping it open with the strength of both legs. The Doctor watched her, dazed, mouth hanging down, until she grunted, motioning with her head for him to climb through under her. He nodded and slid under, emerging on the other side of the doorway.

“Rose,” he said, eyes focussed on the corridor behind her. “C’mon. Before the gas.”

“Yeah.”

She dropped one leg down, shifting so she was almost facing forward with one leg still propping the door open, and felt the doors clamp down, closing by a few inches.

“Not sure how to get out,” she said with a weak laugh.

The Doctor’s eyes darted from her, above, below, behind, and he turned around, hands nearly going to his hair until he hissed, instead. Finally, his eyes fell on a square, metal stool sitting beside a plain medical bed, and ran towards it, kicking it in Rose’s direction until it was situated underneath her.

“C’mon,” he said, urgent eyes fixed on her face. Hers drifted down to his swollen hands, then back up, and he gave her a small smile. “I’m fine, and we need to get out of here. Push off and jump and the stool will catch the doors.”

“Are you sure—”

“ _Now!_ ”

She jumped, and the doors slammed behind her, sending the stool clattering. Rose took a step forward, nearly tripping as she realised that the heavy steel had closed around the ankle of her jeans, though it missed her flesh entirely. With a growl, she pulled, and at the sound of tearing denim, ran towards the TARDIS. The Doctor was already there, purple, puffy fingers fumbling to find their way into a pocket.

“I’ve got it, Doctor,” she said, and pulled the key from around her neck, unlocking the door and letting them both inside.

Rose leaned against the door as she closed it behind them, trying to even out her heartrate as she watched the Doctor standing in the middle of the console room with his eyes closed, hands held gingerly in front of him.

“Doctor, are you gonna be all right?” she asked, walking to him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Do we need to get help or can you heal yourself, use regeneration energy or something?”

“Give me a moment, Rose,” he said quietly, traces of pain in his voice. “Just finishing a few metacarpal checks.”

Rose stood next to him, chewing on her thumb while her other hand rubbed his back in small circles. After another thirty seconds the Doctor took a deep breath and opened his eyes, smiling at her weakly.

“What’s the damage?”

“Seven phalangeal fractures and three metacarpal fractures. Well, four, really, but one is just a hairline break so that’ll mend on its own,” he said, lifting his right arm as if to run a hand through his hair before thinking better of it. “Also, two tendon tears and a crushed artery. Bit of nerve damage as well. But, aside from that--”

“Aside from that?” Rose asked, eyebrows high. “Doctor, you’re seriously hurt -- you don’t have to sugarcoat it for me. Now, tell me what I can do to help. Is there something in the medical bay that will work?”

“Yes, but--”

“But?”

“We need to get out of here.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. The TARDIS can keep out the poison gas, but it’s only a matter of time before the ship’s laser blasters find us and, when they do, they could cause permanent damage to our defence shields. Best to cut our losses and leave now.”

“But how? You can’t use your hands and you can’t possibly expect _me_ to fly the TARDIS.”

“Nope,” he said, and while otherwise sounding perfectly cheery, Rose noticed he didn’t pop the P. “I expect you to get the sonic screwdriver out of my right pocket, turn it to setting 357, point it at the console, and hit the button.”

“All right, that sounds doable,” Rose replied, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding.

Walking to the Doctor’s other side, she used one hand to hold his pocket open before slipping the other inside, so as to violate his personal space as little as possible. She paused when, after inserting her whole hand, she still didn’t feel anything.

“Bigger on the inside,” the Doctor explained. “You’re gonna have to fish around a bit.”

“Right.”

Rose reached in farther until her wrist and part of her forearm were in his trouser pocket. It was an awkward angle, with her head pressed against his side, the soft double beats of his hearts thrumming against her ear.

“Ah, think I’ve nearly got it.” Tongue caught between her teeth in concentration, she finally located the sonic and extricated it. Rose extended it to him triumphantly, hoping the redness of her cheeks wasn’t quite as bright as it felt -- this wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined putting her hand down the Doctor’s trousers, but it stirred her fantasies nonetheless.

“Three hundred fifty-seven,” the Doctor said, looking at her expectantly.

“Oh, right,” Rose replied, shaking her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. Her best mate was badly injured, now was not the time to let her crush get the better of her.

Turning the dials as the Doctor had showed her several times before, Rose aligned the settings to the correct number.

“Now just point it at the console and hit the large button,” the Doctor said. “That will set off an emergency protocol that will send us into the vortex. We can drift there until I’m healed.”

Rose directed the sonic at the console and hit the button, holding it down for a few seconds. Nothing happened.

“Right, let’s go to the med bay, then,” the Doctor said, turning on his heel and walking toward the hallway.

“But… are you sure it worked?” Rose asked, slowly following. “It didn’t do anything.”

“Yep, it worked,” he called over his shoulder. “Come on, keep up! Gonna need your help.”

“Coming!” Rose started to jog after him and was just over the threshold into the hallway when she heard the Doctor’s voice, but this time it was coming from behind her.

“This is emergency programme 17.”

Rose turned and walked back to the console, her hair standing on end. She’d heard a message like that before, from the same man with a different face.

“If you’re hearing this, it means we’re in grave danger and I had to send you back into the vortex, without me,” the recording of the Doctor continued. Rose was face-to-face with the hologram now, the Doctor’s projection looking at her solemnly.

“There should be enough food on board for a few weeks, well, less than that if we’ve got Mister Mickey-Mick aboard. And if you do don’t let him into my workshop or the library, I don’t want him mucking things up!” the hologram Doctor said, pointing his finger accusingly. “Because I’m coming back for you, Rose. Wouldn’t have used this specific emergency protocol if I thought there was even a chance that I couldn’t.”

Rose pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to stop their trembling as harsh tears brimmed in her eyes.

“I’ll always come back for you,” the hologram said softly, smiling sadly. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but quickly closed it again. Then, with a buzzing sound and a flash, the recording ended and the TARDIS’ rotors whirred to life.

She sniffed, wiping at her eyes, and stood up straight before stepping back into the corridor. When she reached the med bay, the Doctor was standing next to the familiar spread of medical equipment on the long, steel table at the side of the room. His brow was furrowed, his hands held awkwardly in front of him, but his head jerked up as she entered, eyes finding hers and narrowing slightly.

“What part of ‘keep up’ wasn’t clear? Not exactly the time for dilly-dallying.”

“Sorry, I just--” She paused, letting out a breath. “It’s nothing. Come on, why are you standing? You need to sit down and rest. Just tell me what I need to do. Have-- have you got, what, some plaster, maybe?”

He swallowed, eyes falling back to his hands as he shook his head. “We’ve got to set the bones first.”

“I don’t know how--”

“Yep! Reckoned as much,” he said brightly, though there was an undercurrent of strain in his voice, “but luckily I’ve got a device that’ll do just that, easy-peasy. Would you believe that it also makes absolutely delightful scrambled eggs? Multi-use device. Remember that: never get a device that can do only one thing.”

“Um…”

“Second cupboard on the left, third shelf in, it looks a bit like a television remote, only cylindrical, and it’s got sort of a scanny bit on one side…” He crossed the room and hopped up on a plain medical bed without the use of his hands, crossing his legs at the ankle and jiggling his foot.

Sifting through the contents of the cupboard, Rose took only a moment to find the device, but it was enough to create a marked visual change in the swelling of the Doctor’s hands by the time she got back to him.

“Oh, my god,” she said, eyes going wide.

“Rose.” The Doctor leveled her with a serious stare that was somewhat undermined by the fine sheen of sweat along his brow. “Look at me.”

“I am,” she said, swallowing hard. His hands were purple, now, and so puffy that, although his fingers were spread, they were still touching.

“Up here, Rose. It’s going to be fine. Oi!”

She looked up and into his eyes, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I’m not -- I’ve never seen --” She stopped. “Um. How do I use this?”

“Place it over my hand, not quite touching, but almost, and hit the green button. Start with the tips of my fingers. Bring it down to my palm and over my thumb until you hit my wrist. Then we’ll do the other hand.”

Rose nodded, lifting the device over his outstretched fingertips. The long cylinder trembled in her grip and she squeezed her eyes shut for a second to get a hold of herself.

“Hey,” the Doctor said, and she opened her eyes, blinking against her blurred vision. “I’m all right. But this is going to hurt. And I don’t want you to be alarmed.”

“Right. Setting bones. Not exactly going to tickle.” She let out a breath. “Best get it over with, yeah?”

He smiled at her, leaning forward and raising his other hand towards her face before remembering himself and lowering it again. “Yeah.”

She scrunched up her nose and pushed the green button. The Doctor tensed up immediately, back straightening, toes pointing, but the only change in his face was a tightness around his mouth. He made no noise, staring straight ahead. She moved the device from his fingertips towards his palm, relaxing when she realised she couldn’t hear any cracks of bones moving, nor could she see or feel any real difference in his hand. The device hummed quietly, but otherwise it wasn’t obvious that it was doing anything at all. She kept her eyes on his palm, on its subtle shaking, until she couldn’t resist any longer and placed a comforting hand on his wrist, stabilising them both.

“A little slower,” the Doctor said, voice strained. Rose obliged, moving the machine a tiny bit at a time, until she finished his first hand. He let out a long breath and closed his eyes. “See? Fine. Easy. No big deal.”

“Hold out your other hand,” Rose said, releasing his right wrist. When he moved his left towards her, she gripped that one gently, rubbing her thumb back and forth along the tendon, and started up the machine again.

When she was finished, she lowered the device, but kept rubbing small, soothing circles along his wrist. He took a second to breathe, before raising his gaze to her again.

“Okay?” she asked.

He nodded.

“What else can I do to help, Doctor?”

He swallowed. “Erm. Go -- same cupboard. Should’ve said before. A pair of gloves, ehm, black, and -- they feel a bit like satin mixed with chain link. It’s sort of like a cast.”

She removed her hand gently, and rushed over to the cupboard, recovering the gloves. He held out a hand, nodding, and she carefully slid the glove over his damaged fingers. It stretched to accommodate him, soft and smooth, and he didn’t even wince as she slid it on. When both gloves covered his hands he kept them extended.

“Grab the sonic again. Setting 234b will activate the gloves. Just point and give a bit of a buzz. Won’t take more than a second.”

As she sonicked each of his hands, the silky fabric hardened into what looked like stiff rubber. The Doctor pulled his hands away from her, then, and lowered them to his sides.

“That’s all we can do,” he said.

“How long’s it going to take to heal?”

He shrugged, head tilting to the side. “Not long. A day, maybe two? I’m a much faster healer than you humans, but broken bones are broken bones. There’s only so much that can be done.”

“Blimey, that’s fast. But... There’s no bone mending setting on the sonic?”

He gave her a funny look. “Could mend it temporarily. Just to prevent further damage and make a getaway, that sort of thing, but my body’s extremely effective at healing itself. Right now, there are millions of regenerative cells fixing the bones in my hands. But they’re best left to their own devices. Won’t take long. Trust me. Now! Something else we’ve got to take care of…”


	2. Chapter 2

“What is it?” Rose asked, trying to keep the panic from her voice. “Thought we were in the vortex. Is that ship still tracking us?”

“No, no nothing like that.” The Doctor motioned with his head for her to follow him as he explained, walking back into the hallway. “My body is slowly going into shock from the trauma. I’ve done my best to tamp it down, but it seems it’s unavoidable at this stage. However, I think I have a solution that will head it off.”

“Okay,” Rose said, jogging alongside him to keep up. “What is it?”

“We’ve got to make my body temperature rise significantly,” he said, rounding the corner that lead to his bedroom. “And the most efficient way to do that is through a thermoregulatory dihydrogen monoxide solution.”

The Doctor stopped when they reached his bedroom door, stepping aside so Rose could turn the knob and lead them inside.

“And that’s, what, exactly?”

“A really, really, really, _really_ hot bath.”

“Oh,” Rose said, letting out a breath as she followed him into the bathroom, relieved she didn’t have to perform another painful procedure on him. As hard as it was seeing him in pain, it was even harder to be the source of it, even if it meant she was ultimately helping him.

“Right, I’m gonna need your help again, Rose,” he said, stepping into the spacious tiled room and facing her. “We’ve really got to get ahead of this thing or my recovery will take much longer.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she said, rubbing his arm. “Just tell me what I should do.”

“First, turn on the water in the bath, hot nozzle only, on full blast,” he said, Rose complying immediately, the sound of rushing water filling the room. “Now I’m, ehrm, you’re going to need to undress me, for the most part, at least. This will work better if I have skin-on-skin contact with the water.”

“That’s all right,” she said, biting her lip as she studied him, working out where to begin.

Moving back to him, she tugged gently at his overcoat and he wiggled his body, helping it to slide off. She laid it on the counter, folding it once to keep it from touching the floor. Next, she walked over to the toilet put the lid down. “Here, have a seat on the loo.”

Rose knelt in front of him and untied the Doctor’s trainers, slipping them off before peeling off his socks. Then, glancing over to make sure the tub wasn’t overflowing -- the water was only halfway -- she stood and began loosening his tie. They were practically face to face now, the Doctor’s slightly lower, and as she fumbled with the silky knot she could feel his eyes on her.

“Rose. Hey,” he said, tapping her ankle with his bare foot. “Stop for a moment and look at me.”

The knot was nearly free but Rose listened, taking a shaky breath as she met his eyes.

“I’m going to be fine,” he said, gaze warm. “So take a few deep breaths, all right? We’ve got to work quickly, but it’ll be easier if your hands aren’t shaking.”

Rose placed her hands on his shoulders and inhaled deeply, keeping her eyes on him as she slowly breathed out.

“Just hate seeing you like this,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “And I can tell you’re in pain, even though you pretend you’re not. Don’t you have painkillers or something that you can take?”

“I do,” he replied, as Rose’s hands returned to his tie, succeeding in releasing the knot and slipping it from his neck. “And I’ll tell you where, but only after I’m in the bath. That’s priority number one.”

“Okay, good,” she said, pushing the suit jacket from his shoulders and starting on his shirt.

It was easier than she expected to keep her eyes off the tight t-shirt and small ‘v’ of bare chest that emerged as she made her way down his torso. It was even easier to remember not to stare as she unbuttoned his cuffs and brushed her hands across the delicate bones of his wrists, thinking hard instead about the poor, delicate bones in his fingers. He wiggled his shoulders until he was free of the layers.

“Arms up,” she said, attempting to look serious, and grabbed the bottom hem of his undershirt, pulling it up. She reached over to adjust his elbows and arms out of the sleeves, and then pulled it over his head, unleashing several small crackles of static electricity as it moved across his hair.

She tossed the shirt onto the pile of clothes and when she looked back at him, he was standing. He looked down at his trousers, then up at her face, and swallowed. Before he could say anything, Rose took a step towards him, her eyes drawn helplessly to his bare chest -- leaned, toned, and with the perfect smattering of hair across the centre. She forced herself to exhale, finding the clasp of his trousers before he could tell her to hurry up.

Her hands were still trembling as her fingers poked beneath the waistband to get some purchase, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of pent up worry or because she was lowering the zipper of his trousers and pushing them down his legs until they pooled at his feet. It wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined undressing him. She kept her eyes on his face, shining in the light just slightly with sweat. He looked over her head, jaw clenched, dimple showing.

The Doctor cleared his throat before she could evaluate his pants situation, kicking off his trousers and stepping out of them gracefully as he sidestepped Rose, still avoiding her eyes. She heard him hiss as his feet made contact with the bath water. When she turned, he’d lowered himself fully, covering even his face.

Rose moved towards the tub, turning off the tap, and sat down on the rim, watching the steam rise above the water instead of looking down at the Doctor. When he stayed under for more than a minute, Rose started to worry. She looked down into the tub, keeping her eyes on his upper half, and found the Doctor looking quite peaceful in the clear water, his eyes closed. Seeming to sense her, he opened one eye and gave her a small smile followed by an underwater wink.

When he finally lifted his head at least another minute later, his dark fringe hung in his eyes, rivulets running down his nose, skin pink.

“Much better,” he said, lowering his head and letting it float.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You’re turning a bit red, though.” She skimmed her fingertips along the water’s surface; it was almost too hot to touch.

“Mmm. Yes. As I should be. Stimulating the blood flow -- that’s the ticket.” He stretched his torso in such a way that his nipples peeked out of the bath for a second and Rose forced herself to look over at the bathroom counter. She reminded herself that he was in pain. That he still needed help.

“Say, Rose,” he said, “If you still want to fetch me that painkiller, it’s in the cupboard there.” He jerked his chin towards the opposite side of the room. “Blue putty in a short Mason jar. Best painkiller this side of the Andromeda, so you’ll want to be careful not to waste any.”

“Right,” she said, rising and crossing the room. She found it quickly amidst the numerous sleekly packaged hair care products. “Why’ve you got such a strong painkiller in your own bathroom? Seems like something we should’ve fetched from the med bay.”

“I -- er -- I never took it out of here, after Van Statten.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip, looking down at the jar, at the subtle smear of blue along the metal rim of the lid. She hadn’t been there to help, that time.

“Still! Makes it easier for us, doesn’t it?”

“Suppose.”

He sat up fully, water streaming down his neck and shoulders, and shook his head free of most of the water before turning to Rose. “I don’t want you to be alarmed, but there’s just one thing about the application.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, reaching to unscrew the lid.

“Wait, don’t!” the Doctor yelled, one arm splashing out of the water as he gestured for her to stop, making him wince in pain. “It can’t come into contact with your skin, not even that dried bit on the edge. It’s entirely too powerful for humans -- like propofol times ten -- and you’d be knocked out in an instant. Just, just put it down, and go into the cupboard under the sink. Should be a box of medical gloves in there.”

Rose did as he asked, muttering to herself that she wasn’t even going to ask why he had medical gloves in his ensuite. The gloves looked like they were going to be a bit big -- sized to fit his manly, hairy hands -- but once she slipped them on they constricted to fit like a glove.

“Thirty-second century technology,” the Doctor said. The strain in his voice reminded Rose to hurry.

Picking up the jar again, she returned to sit on the edge of the tub facing the Doctor.

“All right, where does this go?”

“Just put a small dab over each of my carotid arteries.”

“On your wh--”

“The pulse points on my neck.”

“Got it,” she said, scooping a pea-sized amount with her index finger and extending her hand toward him.

“Wait, one more thing,” he said, and her hand paused in midair. “It’s going to make me a bit loopy, practically instantaneously, so I’d like to give you the rest of the instructions for how to care for me now.”

“Sounds good. What do you need?”

“Let me soak for about five more minutes, then, erm, dress me and get me into bed. The sleep will help the regenerative energy to heal my cells more efficiently, and I should nod off rather quickly due to the pain meds.”

“Okay. Not a problem Doctor. Anything to help you get better soon, yeah?”

She patted his shoulder with her left hand as her right extended forward again, moving toward his neck. The Doctor turned his head to give her better access, the grimace on his face making Rose wish he’d allowed her to administer the medication sooner.

“And Rose,” he said, as she smoothed the putty over his vein before scooping more out of the jar to give the same treatment to the other side. “Thanks. For helping me.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled, replacing the jar in the cupboard and carefully removing the gloves and tossing them in the bin. “Besides, it’s me who should be thanking you, Doctor. If it wasn’t for you, we’d still be on that spaceship breathing in poison fumes.”

When Rose turned back toward the bath, the Doctor was slouched against the end of the tub, head lolling on the tiled wall behind him.

“Feeling better then?” Rose grinned, taking her seat on the rim again.

“Much better,” he breathed, smiling lazily. “Much, much better, Rose Tyler.”

He lifted one hand out of the water and placed it on her knee, frowning at the heavy black glove as if he didn’t expect it to be there.

“That’s rubbish,” he muttered, as Rose gently eased his arm back into the water before he completely soaked her jeans. “How am I supposed to hold your hand now?”

Rose ran her fingers through his hair, making it stick up in a way that made him look more like himself. The Doctor hummed appreciatively and leaned into her touch.

“Well, whenever you want to hold my hand just tell me, and I”ll loop my arm through yours the way I do sometimes.”

“That’s not the same,” he groaned, pouting. “I like the feel of your fingers in mine. They’re so small and soft. Where are they? Let me look at them.”

Rose giggled, rather liking this drugged-up Doctor, and placed her hand in his field of vision.

“Oi, stop moving it about,” he said, making Rose glance to confirm that her hand was, in fact, completely still. “Have you grown a couple fingers since I last saw it? I don’t like that, Rose, much prefer you with five fingers.”

“All right, Doctor,” she said, patting him on the shoulder as she stood. “Reckon it’s time to get you out of the tub and into bed.”

She turned toward the door to go fetch the Doctor some pyjamas, only to find the TARDIS had moved a pair to the counter next to the sink. Mentally thanking the ship, Rose grabbed the nearest fluffy towel and turned back toward the Doctor, who had slouched lower in the tub, eyes drifting closed.

“Doctor!” she yelled, rousing him with a start. “Up you get. Can you stand on your own or do you need help?”

“Of course I can stand on my own,” he scoffed, placing his hands on the edge of the tub and pushing himself up.

Rose winced, but judging by the Doctor’s face he didn’t feel a thing. The water sloshed as he stood quickly, her eyes automatically falling to where his boxers clung to his skin before she could tear her stare away.

Luckily, the Doctor didn’t seem to have noticed as he stepped unsteadily over the side of the tub.

“Woah, easy,” Rose said, grabbing his waist to anchor him, the Doctor resting a heavy arm on her shoulder, water saturating her shirt. “Stand still, I’m just gonna dry you off, all right?”

She quickly ran the towel over his skin, averting her eyes whenever necessary in order to preserve his modesty. After trying to dry his legs twice, she realised it was impossible the way his soaked boxers kept dripping.

“Right, um, Doctor?” she said, snapping her fingers in front of his face since it seemed like he was nodding off again. “Sorry but, um, I’ve got to take your pants off. That okay?”

The Doctor nodded with a smirk and a bit of an eyebrow waggle.

“Rose Tyler is taking my pants off,” he said, before dissolving into giggles.

“Glad we’re being mature about this,” Rose muttered, collecting his pyjamas from the counter so he’d have to be naked for as little time as possible.

Taking a moment to think about the best way to do this, Rose rotated the Doctor -- who was still giggling -- 180 degrees so that his important bits would be facing away from her. He wouldn’t mind her catching a glimpse of his bum, what with the tight trousers he wore these days.

Kneeling and dipping her fingers beneath the waistband of his pants, Rose took a deep breath and slowly peeled them down his legs, which didn’t turn out to be an easy task with the way the drenched fabric stuck to his skin. When they finally reached the floor, Rose used the towel to quickly pat his legs dry before bunching up the pyjama bottoms and helping him to step in.

Then, standing slowly, she managed to pull the dry clothing up his legs and around his waist without hardly catching a peek of anything. Smiling to herself with satisfaction, Rose turned the Doctor around again and helped him into the shirt. She then had him sit on the loo so she could towel--dry his hair.

“Mm, love when you touch my hair, Rose,” he slurred, as she finger-combed his locks. “Why don’t you do that more? You should do that more.”

“I’d love to, Doctor,” she replied, dropping the towel and looping her arm through his elbow, helping him stand and walk into his bedroom.

She pulled the duvet back and helped him get into bed and lie on his back, carefully arranging his hands so that they were resting on his stomach. He hadn’t mentioned anything about elevating them, but based on what she knew about human injuries and avoiding swelling, she figured she may as well just in case.

“Get some rest, Doctor,” she whispered, running her hand through his hair one last time as the TARDIS brought the lights down in the room.

It appeared he had already conked out, so Rose made her way to the door, planning to take a quick shower and get some rest herself. But when her hand was on the doorknob she heard the Doctor whisper her name.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, walking back to him. “Is the pain worse?”

“Want to hold your hand,” he whispered, heavy eyes opening a sliver.

“You’ve just got to get some rest, yeah?” she replied, cupping his cheek. “The sooner you get some rest, the sooner your fingers will be back in hand-holding shape.”

“But you promised. You said I just needed to tell you and you would.”

“Oh, right. Of course.”

Rose quickly shucked her damp jeans and top and pulled on one of the Doctor’s white undershirts, which fell to her upper thighs. Walking to the other side of the bed, she slipped under the covers and curled up next to him, linking her arm through the crook of his.

“How’s this?” she asked, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder.

“Much better,” he whispered, turning his head so that his lips brushed against her forehead. “Much, much better. Rose, have I ever told you...”

Rose smiled as the Doctor, much like his sentence, drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Soft, gentle hands drifted along her arms, over her shoulders, and along the skin of her neck. They settled at her collar, nimbly unbuttoning her shirt from throat to stomach. She was confused, so certain she’d been in a t-shirt, or maybe it was a blouse… But soon the buttons were undone and the hands spread fabric apart, baring her to warmth and skin. She craned her neck and found the Doctor above her, one leg between hers, his hand rubbing lazily up and down her ribcage, dipping into the hollow between her breasts, over her sternum, and along her throat until he was cupping her cheek.

“Much better,” he whispered, and kissed her, moving his hand down her body again.

She arched into him, bringing her breast into contact with his palm, and he groaned against her mouth. He parted his lips and moved his tongue against her top lip, toying with her nipple for several long, deep kisses. Her arms were empty, at her sides, and it was suddenly unbearable. She brought them to his shoulders, then moved one up through his hair, so soft and fluffy from his bath. His bath?

“Doctor,” she said, breaking off the kiss.

“Shh.” He slid his hand down her breast to her waist and then across her hip bone, and kissed her under her ear, soft lips ghosting down her neck until his cool tongue peeked out and tasted the skin of her collarbone. Warmth sparked between her thighs and she keened, lifting her hips, bringing her centre in contact with his thigh -- his bare thigh. She could feel the muscles in his leg, the coarse hair all the way up to where she realised his hardness pressed against her hip. She wondered where his pants had gone -- she’d taken them off, hadn’t she?

His kisses fluttered along her neck, up and down, from throat to jaw, until he brought his mouth back to hers at the same second as he feathered his fingers along the seam of her sex.

Rose cried out against him, parting her legs, wanting him inside her so badly she was nearly ready to beg, and he laughed against her mouth. He ground against her hip but didn’t deepen his kiss, contenting himself with the slow movement of his lips on hers and his fingertips along her outer lips. She let out a frustrated grunt and he chuckled again, curling his thumb around her clit, then back down, parting her sex without entering her. He kept his motions light, careful and slow, and the wet sounds of his fingers between her legs filled the room, only making her more impatient. She huffed against his mouth, opening hers, sucking on his tongue, pushing her hips up, trying to get revenge.

Still, no matter how she moved, he was still just barely touching her, just skimming along, circling her clit, until she realised her hands had somehow landed at her sides again and she pulled at his hips, at his sides, scooting him up. The angle shouldn’t have been right, but it worked, and suddenly she was full, and he was pumping his fingers, all the way in, then back out, still so slow, and it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

“Please,” she said, and he shuddered against her, speeding his motions.

His breath was heavy, hitting her earlobe. It tickled, spreading tingles along her scalp and down her spine, and it all seemed to go straight to her core, to where he fucked her with his fingers, his movements becoming frantic. She ground her hips up and moaned as pressure against her clit pushed her closer. The coil in her stomach started to tighten, and she raised and lowered her hips in time to her gasps, clenching against his fingers, nearly there, _almost_ \--

“Rose.”

Her breath caught. _A little more_...

“Rose,” he said again, and this time his voice was loud, clear... Lucid.

Her eyes snapped open. The Doctor was in the doorway, peeking his head in, one gloved hand touching the door frame.

Instant understanding flooded her. He’d hurt his hands. She treated him, bathed him, went to bed with him… She was on her back, covers pulled up to her neck. He was looking at her expectantly. She swallowed, slowly moving her hand from between her legs and discreetly wiping her wetness on the sheets, hoping she wasn’t rustling the covers. Her whole body was buzzing.

“Yeah?” she said, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said, bounding into the room and sitting at the foot of the bed. The drugs must have worn off; he was energetic again. “I waited a very long time. Eight and a half hours! Slept five, myself, but nevertheless. I’m rather hungry, and I thought you must be, too, since I know you didn’t eat last night either, and…”

He furrowed his brow, eyes moving along her face and then away from her. His nostrils flared. Rose tried to sink deeper into the mattress, tried to ignore the throbbing warmth between her legs.

“Yeah?” she asked, feigning normalcy.

He swallowed. “I wondered if you might help me make something to eat. I’m having a bit of trouble getting the jam open.”

“Um. Yeah. Just -- uh… I need to use the loo.”

“Right. Right, of course. I’ll just…” He stood and backed several paces away.

“I’ll meet you in the galley in five?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, clenching his jaw. “Yeah. See you there.”

As soon as the Doctor left the room, closing the door by securing the knob between his wrists and tugging, Rose threw her arms over her face and groaned.

Had he noticed? Was he looking at her strangely just then, or was mortification clouding her perception?

She cringed at the thought of what he might have seen -- what he might have heard -- and rolled onto her side, catching his scent on the pillow next to her. She hadn’t meant to stay in bed with him all night, especially considering he might not remember asking her to stick around. It made sense, though, that she would have a dream like that after falling asleep cuddled against his side, nestled between his sheets, clothed in his undershirt.

Rose’s hands slipped downward as she lost herself in thought, gently caressing her collarbone beneath the thin fabric. She should get out of bed -- she’d told him she’d be in the galley in five minutes, after all -- but she’d been _so close_ before he’d interrupted, and she couldn’t imagine having to wait until tonight to finally find release.

Sighing as she gave in, Rose let one hand drift down to her thighs while the other moved to her breasts, running over still-hard nipples. It only took a few teasing strokes along the insides of her legs to stoke the embers of her arousal, and she turned her face against the pillow -- his pillow -- as her hand dipped inside her knickers once more.

As soon as her nails slid along her sensitive clit the dream-created images filled her mind. Again, it was the Doctor’s fingers plunging inside of her with increasing speed, his nimble thumb that swiped across her clit before pressing firmly and rubbing in tight circles.

Rose whimpered quietly, pressing her face into the pillow, as her thighs clenched around her hand. She rolled onto her stomach, riding her fingers as she panted against the satiny pillowcase, grinding her clit against her slick thumb.

If the Doctor poked his head in now there’d be no mistaking what she was up to, and it was the memory of his face as he finally roused her from sleep that filled Rose’s mind as she came, body writhing against the mattress as she called out her release into down and cotton.

Turning her head to the side for air, she lay there panting for a moment, giggling to herself that she’d just had a wank in the Doctor’s bed. _Oh god_ , now he would know for certain, wouldn’t he? He had an attuned sense of smell and, while she had kept her knickers on, certainly traces of her arousal must have got on the sheets.

Rose huffed and dragged herself out of bed, mentally pleading with the TARDIS to change the sheets before the next time the Doctor needed a kip. Her toothbrush, makeup bag, and a fresh change of clothes and underwear were waiting for her in the Doctor’s ensuite, which she took as a good sign that the ship would help with the bedding situation. Rose thanked her, stroking a coral strut in the corner of the room, before quickly getting ready to meet the Doctor in the kitchen… about 10 minutes later than she’d said.

“Took you long enough,” the Doctor said, quirking a brow at Rose as she rushed into the galley.

She ran a smoothing hand over her hair as she stammered, taking in the scene before her. The kitchen was a mess, with milk sloshed across the floor and a broken plate over by the sink and at least seven jars of jam on the table, but it appeared the Doctor had made breakfast.

“Yeah, sorry, I was just…” she trailed off, willing the redness to drain from her cheeks. “How did you do all this?”

“Well, Rose, it turns out that I can be quite handy, even without the use of my hands.” The Doctor grinned and leapt up from where he was sitting by the table as he began to walk her through his endeavours in handless cooking. “There was already water in the kettle, so I just had to flip the switch with my elbow, easy enough, that. As for the toast, well, getting it out of the bag was half the struggle -- had to use my teeth to undo the twisty tie and I cut my tongue up quite a bit in doing so, look.”

He stepped toward Rose and stuck his tongue out until she nodded in confirmation of the tiny lacerations on his skin.

“But once that was opened, I was able to work the bread out with my immobilised hands and drop the slices into the toaster. Only missed a few times, as you can see,” he glanced at a few pieces of bread on the floor that Rose hadn’t noticed. “The milk, as it turned out, was the easiest bit -- opened the top with the crook of my elbow and poured it into our tea by clutching the carton between my wrists. Just had a few, erm, minor spills, so do watch your step.”

Rose did just that as she walked to her seat and sat down.

“And the tea bags?”

“Teeth!”

“Plates?”

“Used my hands to push them out of the cupboard, then held them between my chin and chest.”

“Looks like that wasn’t completely successful,” she said, glancing at the shattered plate. Another hanging off the edge of the countertop seemed stable enough.

“Not every venture can succeed on the first time,” he said, making Rose smirk as his bottom lip jutted out just a touch.

“Well I’m impressed, Doctor. Though, you have to admit, it’s sorta funny that your grand breakfast plans were foiled by jam.”

“It’s your fault, actually.”

“What? How?”

“You screw the lids on too tight.”

“Doctor, I’ve told you, if you leave the lids off the jam will get all stale and dry, and then you’d be even more unhappy.”

“The TARDIS would never let the jam go stale,” he sniffed, sitting back down in his seat.

“All right, which one would you like then?”

“The apricot.”

“Okay.”

“And the Auzurian plumberry.”

“Sure.”

“Actually--”

“Shall I just open them all, then?”

“Might as well, yeah.”

After opening each jar, Rose helped the Doctor slather his choices of jam on five pieces of toast, after talking him out of holding the knife between his forearms. He was able to eat one piece on his own, by resting it on his stiffened palm, but his stomach grumbled at the painstaking pace and he ultimately accepted Rose’s offer to hold the toast for him.

“Glad you’re feeling better.” She smiled, head propped on her hand as she watched him take a large bite from the piece of toast, some of its apple-honey dripping onto her fingers.

“Once I get over the initial trauma, my body processes pain quite well,” he said, tilting his head back as he chewed. “I may have to take a tablet every now and then, but I feel loads better.”

He tapped her white trainer with his foot.

“Thanks for helping me.”

“Course,” she smiled, returning the tap as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

The Doctor grinned at her and leaned forward to capture the last bit of toast, mouth closing around her index finger as he did so. Rose bit her lip, wondering if he’d misjudged the size of the remaining piece, when she felt him gently suck on her fingertip, followed by a tentative swipe of his tongue.

An instant later his mouth was gone and the Doctor leaned back in his chair, eyeing her as he chewed with his mouth open.

“So, did I do anything daft?”

“W-what?”

“You know, after you administered the painkiller -- I don’t remember much. Anything amusing to report?”

Rose twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she thought, drawing out the moment longer than necessary as she watched his eyebrows climb higher in anticipation.

“Um. You said I should touch your hair more.”

“I did not!” He shriveled his nose.

“Did too,” she laughed. “And you, ehm, asked me to stay with you. For a bit. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I reckon I was quite knackered as well, and my shirt was all wet, from when you came out of the bath, which is why I had changed out of my clothes and--”

“Rose,” the Doctor said, cutting her off. “You don’t have to explain.”

His foot touched hers again, more gently this time, and there it stayed, his instep resting against the toe of her trainer. The Doctor glanced downward, studying the crumbs on his plate, as he continued.

“It was nice, waking up with y--”

The sound of yet more toast popping out of the toaster seemed to trigger an ear-splitting shatter and Rose turned just in time to see the other plate smashed into pieces on the floor. The toast, meanwhile, was very dark brown.

“Ooh, right,” the Doctor said, cocking his head. “Forgot about that.”

Rose sighed, eyes trailing around the room. “Look, I’d better get started cleaning this up.”

“No need!” He stood, brushing crumbs off his pyjama bottoms with stiff hands, and grinned. “The TARDIS will sort it all out. But we need to be out of the room first… Let her work her magic.” He gave Rose a wink.

“What? Really? All this?”

He nodded, then shrugged, moving his hands towards his sides before jolting his gloved hands away, as if he’d forgotten there were no pockets in his pyjama bottoms.

“Then why’ve I been doing the dishes all this time?”

He shrugged again.

Rose shook her head, chuckling, and stepped toward him, looping her arm through his. “All right, then. I’ll let you get away with it since it means I don’t have to clean this disaster.”

“Disaster? This is.. clutter. Disarray.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow and led them out of the galley.

“Disorder. Maybe.”

“It’s a disaster. I’m likely to slip on some milk and cut myself on shards of china. And then who’s gonna patch me up?”

“Hmm. I’d have to swoop in and save you.”

“Ha! Like you could.”

“I’d use my arms.” He squeezed her closer to him as they walked down the corridor. “No hands necessary.”

“Aren’t you gallant,” Rose said, squeezing him back and knocking her shoulder lightly into his.

“Mmm, I’ve often been told.”

“Doctor?”

“Yes?”

“Where’re we headed exactly?”

“Well. Back to my room, for a moment. I need to take care of a couple of things, but I should be able to handle it on my own.” He paused, bumping his shoulder into her again. “Get it? Ha. _Then_ I thought we might head to the media room and watch a film or two. I’m afraid I won’t be much entertainment today.”

“I reckon we could use a day off anyway,” Rose said, reaching the Doctor’s bedroom and opening the door.

It only hit her as she walked in that she wasn’t sure whether the TARDIS had worked her magic in _here_. She tensed up, her arm suddenly going tight around the Doctor’s, and he gave her an odd look as they stepped through the doorway.

“All right?”

“Um.” Rose swallowed. “Yeah, fine. Just... was wondering if…” She struggled for a moment, searching for a suitable excuse for her tension that wasn’t _I wanked in your bed an hour ago and I’m really hoping you can’t tell._ “...If you needed help going to the loo.”

“Oh. Nope!” He patted her on the arm with his gloved palm, then untangled his and stepped away. His eyes drifted towards the bed, which was made, and Rose’s heart leapt in her chest. “Like I said, should be fine on my own, particularly with these jim jams you picked out. Elastic! Brilliant stuff. Though that’s not the material, ‘elastic’ -- that’s just the property of being stretchable. The band itself is rubber. Usually. Not sure about these.”

He’d moved several steps away, backing into the en suite without looking behind him. Standing in the doorway, he said, “I’ll be right back. You can go pick us out a film if you like and I’ll meet you in the media room.”

As he disappeared into the bathroom, Rose let out a sigh she hadn’t realised she was holding in, then allowed herself to survey the room more thoroughly. The bed was immaculately made, down to military corners and decorative pillows. Were those usually there? There were no dirty clothes, towels, or other remnants of the night before around the room and it even smelled fresh, like clean linens and citrus.

“Thank you,” she whispered under her breath, patting the doorway as she left the room.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose was curled up on the sofa, knees and feet tucked under her, with the rom-com she’d selected paused on its title screen when the Doctor came back. She looked up, smile spreading across her face, and a grin bloomed across his as well. He moved over to the sofa, sitting next to her, and she adjusted her position so she could rest her head on his shoulder.

She leaned forward to hit ‘play’ on the remote, which sat on the coffee table, and when she settled back against the sofa, the Doctor had placed his arm on the back of the cushion so that she could burrow into the crook of his shoulder.

The volume was almost too low to hear, but Rose held off on moving to grab the remote again, letting out a little sigh. Against her, she felt the Doctor do the same.

They stayed that way for a few moments, their breaths falling into sync as they watched the smiling faces on the screen, until the volume on the television increased without either of them touching the remote.

Rose allowed herself to get lost in the film and the feel of the Doctor’s cotton-covered chest under her cheek, as they watched in silence. When the credits rolled, she shifted her weight, sitting up straight and stretching her arms up high.

“Another?” he asked, sitting up straighter as well. “I think it has a sequel. Not nearly as good, critically speaking, but it’s worth a watch if you haven’t seen it.”

“Mm. Yeah, definitely. But… I don’t know about you, but I’m a bit peckish. And I might like to get back into some jim jams, as long as we’re vegging all day. D’ya want a sandwich or something?”

He turned his lips down in thought, then nodded with a quirk of his brow. “Could go for a ham and cheese? If you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, think I can handle it.”

“And one of those Vollathan fizzy drinks!” he called after her as she walked out of the room.

When Rose got to her bedroom, she took her time having a rinse in the shower and changing into some soft, cotton, elastic _(rubber)_ waisted jim jams. Then, she decided to truly embrace the goal of comfort by removing her shirt and bra and changing into a reinforced, white vest top. She took some time to go to the loo, wash off most of her makeup, and tie her hair into a loose ponytail. After, she returned to the now meticulously clean galley and prepared two ham and cheese sandwiches, nearly forgetting the fizzy drink until, at the last moment, she remembered and grabbed two, holding them against her side with her arm, the plate in one hand.

“Took you long enough!” he said, smiling, as she re-entered the media room.

“Mm, but worth the wait, right, Doctor?”

Setting the drinks down and smiling, she sat next to him again. He flicked the sequel on as they ate and soon they’d finished their food and drink and she scooted next to him, once again curling into his side. He propped his heels up on the coffee table, crossing his ankles and shifting on the cushion in a way that made Rose sink closer to him, completely pressed against his side. They stayed that way for a long time, through the sequel and a very long documentary about the history of some mineral on a planet called Bandraginus 5, until Rose’s arm started to feel quite stiff at her side.

Remembering the things the Doctor had said under the influence of the blue putty last night, the way he’d encouraged her tactility with him, Rose angled herself toward him and moved her hand from her lap across his body until it rested on his hip. This adjustment meant she could hardly see the telly anymore, with the way her cheek was pressed against his chest -- a detail that had not gone unnoticed by the Doctor, whose breathing seemed to still.

Before Rose could panic that she may have pushed their friendly cuddling too far, she felt the Doctor’s hand drop from the sofa back and gently rest on her shoulder. She hummed contentedly and hugged him closer, wishing his hands weren’t in those ridged gloves so he could curl his fingers around her arm.

Closing her eyes, Rose imagined what it would be like to snuggle with him when all ten digits were in working order. This daydream, of course, turned out to be a terrible idea, because the next thing she knew she was envisioning his fingers ghosting along the tops of her breasts and dipping lower, until they were in the very spot she’d dreamed they were this morning.

Rose’s eyes flew open and she coughed lightly, trying to clear the thoughts from her mind as if they were a tickle in her throat.

“All right?” the Doctor asked. Rose could feel him angling his head to catch a glimpse of her face.

“Yeah,” she laughed, voice a little higher than usual. “Hope I don’t have a cold coming on.”

“Hm.”

The Doctor craned his neck down and forward until he rested his cheek on her forehead. Rose tried not to raise her eyebrows against his skin and held her breath until he pulled back.

“Nah, you feel perfect to me. Ehm, your temperature, I mean -- 37.1. Bit more than the average for humans, but you always run a touch hot.”

“I do?”

“Mhmm.”

“How often do you feel my temperature, Doctor?”

“Not like I do it on purpose or anything,” he said, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “S’just one of the pieces of sensory information my nerve endings send to my brain. For instance, when we hold hands, my fingers might tell my brain that Rose Tyler is slightly dehydrated, has a bit of a sunburn, could do with some more iron in her diet, and has a temperature of 37.1.”

“That all?” Rose bit back a laugh, clutching her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Well, that, and that you have lovely, soft hands that are ideal for holding.”

She giggled and hugged him closer, brow furrowing as a thought struck her.

“Is all that gonna go back to normal? When your hands get better, will they still be able to sense all that stuff?”

“Oh yeah, reckon they should be fine -- didn’t detect any nerve damage.”

“Good,” she said, exhaling heavily.

“Yep, I’ll be good as new, don’t you worry. It’ll take more than a pair of fortified blast doors to get me down, especially my manly hairy hands, _especially_ my fightin’ hand.” The Doctor tugged her closer by pressing the wrist below said fightin’ hand to her shoulder. “Besides, I’d have told you if anything was permanently harmed.”

Rose lifted her hand from the Doctor’s waist to chew on her thumbnail. She was going to wait until he was better to bring it up, but he seemed so relaxed today, that this might be the best chance she’d get to have an open conversation with him. Releasing her thumb and dropping her hand to his thigh, she took a deep breath.

“Rose?”

“Would you though? Tell me?”

“Course I would.”

“You don’t always, you know. Maybe you think you do, but there’s a lot you leave out. It can get frustrating, Doctor.”

Rose felt his muscles tense beneath her cheek.

“All right, give me an example of something I’ve left out.”

Sighing quietly, Rose sat up straight so she could meet his eyes, gently lifting his arm off her shoulders and placing it in his lap. She rested her hand in the crook of his elbow, wishing she could twine her fingers with his.

“Emergency programme 17.”

The Doctor stared at her, lips parting as he blinked three times in rapid succession.

“Reckoned that’s what took you so long,” he said, lifting his free arm toward his hair before stopping mid-course, placing it back down again with a huff. “I wasn’t trying to _keep_ anything from you, Rose. There are hundreds of emergency programmes I’ve made over the years, you’d get bored if I sat you down and detailed every single one.”

“Don’t want you to tell me about each one,” she said softly, stroking his arm. “But, I mean, it would be nice to know about the ones that directly pertain to me. And I thought that, after the last time, it was clear I don’t take well to being sent away.”

Rose smiled at him, trying to lighten the moment and smooth over the memories she dredged up with that last statement, but the Doctor didn’t catch it, eyes focused on a spot to the left of the coffee table.

“You have to understand, I needed to have that option,” he said. “We keep finding ourselves in more and more dangerous situations -- I’ve got to have all my bases covered. And it worked out for us today, didn’t it?”

“Right, I understand that. But in the message, you specifically say you’ve sent me away for my own good, or to get me out of grave danger or whatever. What I need you to get is that it’s not all right for you alone to decide what’s in my best interest -- you can’t just keep sending me away and have some recording do the talking for you. Don’t you see how unfair that is?”

The Doctor sniffed, gaze still glued to the floor. Rose closed her eyes and took a steady breath, debating if she should continue to press the issue as she was clearly getting nowhere. That’s when she heard the Doctor mutter something.

“Sorry?”

“Just want to keep you safe,” he said more clearly.

She let silence hang in the air for a second as she carefully thought out her reply, watching as his mouth twitched in apparent frustration.

“Don’t you know I want to keep you safe, too?”

Still staring ahead, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but Rose cut him off.

“Cause I do,” Rose continued. “‘Course I do. And -- not only that -- but I save you half the time! You need me with you, an extra pair of hands as well as a hand to hold. And... I’m, I’m here because I want to be. With you. And I know the risks. It…” She broke off with a dry laugh. “...It wasn’t exactly long before my life was in danger, travelling with you, but that doesn’t matter to me. Because you make me happy. And because this is what I want to be doing with my life. Saving the universe, and saving you, and letting you save me right back.”

His lips parted, brow furrowing, and when he turned his head to look at her again there was something raw in his expression. She met his eyes, and her voice grew vehement. “But that does not give you the right to act for my own good and make my decisions for me. I need that to be very clear, Doctor. I’m an adult, and I know how dangerous this life is, and I’ve chosen to live it. You need to respect that.”

The Doctor closed his mouth and swallowed, nodding.

“And if there’s situations that you think about where it’d be the best thing, the safest thing, for both of us, for you to come back for me later, or for you to send me away, then you can sit down _with_ me and we can sort those out together. I deserve that much. And maybe we ought to think about a few emergency programmes for _you_ , too. Or for both of us. For when something like yesterday happens. Okay?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, watching her.

“Good.” She let out a shuddering breath and grabbed his arm, lifting it, and snuggling back against his side. He pulled her in close, his whole arm tight against her, and she buried her face in his chest, breathing him in, and wrapping her arm around his side.

They were silent for a moment, and Rose battled with the urge to say even more, to tell him exactly how she felt.

“Rose?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Yeah?”

“I would, though.”

“You would what?”

“Always come back for you. I would.”

She bit her lip and raised her chin to look up at him again. His expression was more open than she’d ever seen it before; his eyes were so wide, almost shimmering, and he was so close that she felt his cool breath against her lips. It was too much, after the fear of the night before, the pent up frustration and grief at seeing yet another message about leaving her behind, and the tension from that morning that just wouldn’t seem to leave.

Raising her chin a fraction higher, she pressed her lips gently to his, letting her eyes slip closed. There was a second of terrifying stillness, enough to get Rose’s heart stuttering in her chest, before he melted into her, hugging her even tighter, and letting out a soft exhale through his nose. Encouraged, she angled her face, pressing her lips against his, and whimpered against his mouth when he began kissing her back in earnest.

When his cool tongue tickled along the seam of her lips, she cried out, opening her mouth and moving her body to face him fully. She wrapped both arms around his neck, plunging a hand into his hair, and pulled him towards her. He shifted, moving his arms down her body, and hugged her close, grunting in frustration as he rested his immobilized hands against her waist.

They kissed for several long moments before the angle became awkward and Rose had to get closer. In a moment of daring, she raised herself up onto her knees and threw a leg over his, settling above his lap without breaking their kiss. Her stomach flipped, a mix of warmth and fear suffusing her, until he pulled her down onto him.

The Doctor hissed, shoulders tensing as he loosened his strong hold on her hips. Before Rose could ask him if he was alright, he circled his arms around her body and rested his hands gently on her back, his shoulders relaxing as his tongue dragged along the roof of her mouth.

Rose’s breathing hitched and she failed to swallow a whimper, nails digging into his neck as she felt him through two thin layers of pyjama bottoms, warm and half-hard. She ground her hips experimentally and the Doctor gasped, breaking their kiss enough for Rose to close her teeth around his bottom lip and give it a celebratory tug as she continued to move against him in slow circles.

She distantly thought it should be jarring, this sudden advancement in their relationship, but if anything it felt _more_ right than the status quo, like it was a natural progression that was a long time coming. Rose had an inkling the Doctor felt like this too, what with the way there had been no hesitancy when his lips slid over hers, the way his hips were needfully arching upwards.

Somehow his mouth escaped her grasp, but before Rose’s lips could form a pout she felt his on her neck, pressing gently just beneath her jaw, then parting for a wet swirl of tongue followed by a rough suck.

“Oh god,” she gasped, unable to do anything but cling to his shoulders and focus on the fact that something once _partially_ hard was now _completely_ hard and hitting her in just the right spot through the cotton of her trousers.

Her voice seemed to jolt the Doctor from his task, lips leaving her skin so he could rest his forehead against hers, softly panting against her chin.

“Wish I could touch you,” he breathed.

“You are touching me,” she said, wiggling her hips for emphasis and biting her bottom lip at the feel of him.

“No, I mean.” He ran his gloved hands down her bare arms. “Want to _really_ feel you.”

“Oh.” Rose pressed her lips to his once more before scooting backwards in his lap and resting her hands on his shoulders. “I-- I want that too. Suppose we should take things a bit slower anyway.”

“Slower?” he asked, screwing his face up at her. “Slower? I don’t know about _slower_. Though I suppose it’s a relative term, that, _slow_ , and is really up to the interpretation of the person using it. And the person hearing it as well. Although, hopefully, their individual perceptions of _slow_ matches up to the same general level of _slowness_ , or else--.”

“All right, all right, stop saying _slow_ ,” Rose laughed, swatting at his chest. “Just meant we should probably let your hands heal before, you know. Felt you wince a few times and I don’t want you further aggravating your injuries.”

She glanced down at his lap meaningfully, licking the corner of her mouth at the sight of him straining against his pyjama bottoms.

“Though there is a hands-free activity I’d like to try on you, but I’d rather wait until I can feel your fingers in my hair.” Rose winked and the Doctor sputtered, gaping at her as she grinned.

“Rose Tyler, I will hold you to that,” he said, tightening his arms around her.

“Although, will that be uncomfortable? I mean, you can’t even…” She formed a circle with one hand, but the Doctor rushed to answer before she could move her wrist to further mime the act she was implying.

“Yes, I mean, no, I’ll be fine. I can redirect the blood-flow without any discomfort, it’s just taking a bit longer than normal.”

“Because so much energy is going into healing your hands?”

“Because you’re sitting on my lap.”

“Ah.”

Unable to resist kissing him one more time, if only because she could, Rose moved off the Doctor’s lap and stood.

“Shall we get the blood pumping in other directions then?” She raised her arms over her head to stretch, practically feeling the weight of the Doctor’s gaze as it travelled down her body. “Could go for a walk through the gardens -- haven’t been to that footbridge over the waterfall in ages.”

The Doctor smiled and began to stand, pressing his hands into the cushions for leverage. A grimace spread across his face for an instant, an expression Rose wouldn’t have caught had she not been travelling with him for so long.

“All right?” She gripped his forearm as he stood fully.

“Yep,” he said, but the P didn’t pop as sharply as usual.

“Well, why don’t you take one of those pain tablets you mentioned, just in case, yeah?” Rose linked her arm through his as they left the media room, the telly and lights switching off at the Doctor’s wordless command. “Those in your bathroom or the med bay?”

“Bathroom. And, actually, I may have to take a raincheck on that walk -- I can tell that my hands are pretty close to being fully healed, but I can really speed the process along if I power down, so to speak. The tablet will make me drowsy anyway, so I may as well take a kip.”

“Right, that makes sense,” Rose said, turning her face against his shoulder to stifle a yawn. “Guess I’m a bit knackered myself.”

“Good.” The Doctor tapped her hip with his.

“Why’s that?”

“We’ll both have a bit of a lie in and then _slow_   will be here faster than you’d think.”


	5. Chapter 5

They took their time ambling back to the Doctor’s bedroom, and Rose nearly felt compelled to drop him off at his door with a little goodnight kiss until she remembered, stomach flipping, that she was expected to join him.

She opened the door to the bedroom, which was starting to feel quite homey and familiar over the last day or so, and he gave her a soft smile as he led her towards the bathroom by the crook of her arm. When they stepped into the tiled room, he unlinked their arms and walked over to the cabinet, flipping it open and peering at the assortment of hair care products and medicine bottles.

“Just let me grab it for you. Which one is it?”

“Oh, er.” He leaned in, squinting at the tiny print on several of the bottles. “The red one.”

She leaned over, pressing her side against his arm as she snatched the bottle from the medicine cabinet and opened the lid.

“I can touch it, right?”

He nodded.

“How many?”

“Just one.”

“Need a cup of water?”

“Nah.”

She took out a tablet and, smirking, said, “All right, open wide.”

A smile curled at the edge of his mouth and he complied. She placed the pill on his tongue and he closed his mouth around her fingers as she moved them out of the way. This time it was perfectly clear that the action was intentional. With a flick of his head, he swallowed the small tablet and grinned at her outright. She leaned in and popped a kiss against his lips, then skirted away before he could grab her across the waist.

“D’ya need to brush your teeth or use the loo or anything?” Rose asked, grabbing her own toothbrush out of a cup on the counter where the TARDIS had helpfully placed it.

“Nah, did all that earlier. Only need to once every day or two.” He wrinkled his nose. “The rate of waste production and bacteria growth in humans is really very--”

“Oi, okay, thanks,” Rose interrupted. “How about you give the germy human some privacy, then?”

He pouted. “I didn’t mean it like _that_.”

“S’fine, Doctor, but I need to get ready for bed.”

“You’re staying, then?” His face lit up. “Right. No problemo! Lots of privacy. Total seclusion. The TARDIS will even soundproof the bathroom if you like.”

Rose made a face. “What sort of noisy stuff do you get up to in here?”

“Er…”

“Or do you think _I’m_ noisy when I…. Nevermind. Go. I’ll be right out.”

He chuckled quietly to himself as he left and Rose pushed the door shut behind him, shaking her head. She took a few minutes to use the toilet, wash her hands and the remaining traces of makeup from her face, and brush her teeth. After she cleaned up, she found herself just staring at her own reflection, trying to discern any visible changes now that she’d properly _snogged_ the Doctor and was set to do it again at her earliest opportunity. There was a subtle pink in her cheeks and her lips were slightly sensitive, perhaps a little bit swollen, but she looked the same. She took a few calming breaths, trying to stop the overjoyed squeak that was trying to work its way out of her, determined to make sure that the bathroom did not actually need to be soundproofed.

When she returned, she found the Doctor in bed, quilt up to his waist, shirtless, _shirtless!_ , and he grinned at the sight of her, little crinkles spreading around his eyes as he regarded her warmly. She couldn’t help smiling back and hurried to the other side of the bed, cuddling in under the covers and turning onto her side, reaching back to tug lightly at the Doctor’s arm. The lights dimmed, then darkened altogether, and the Doctor turned over, spooning her, one arm secure around her waist, his breath grazing her ear.

“Sleepy yet?” she whispered, trying to keep her breaths calm and measured.

“Not really.” He pulled her closer with his forearm, then let out a deep breath. “But I will be soon. And this is very, very nice.”

“Yeah.”

They were silent for a long time before Rose started to calm. First, her feet and legs loosening; then, her torso and hip sinking deeper into the mattress; and finally, the muscles in her face and hands relaxing, until her entire body felt almost boneless. She closed her eyes, focusing on the faint sound of the Doctor’s slow, deep breaths and the feel of him against her back, and, at last, she drifted off to sleep.

\--

Eyes closed, Rose stretched languorously, spreading her arms wide until she hit empty mattress where the Doctor’s bare chest should be. She sat up and opened her eyes, her stomach dropping when she found the room empty.

Peeling back the covers, she got out of bed, bare feet plodding across cold floor as she peeked into the bathroom and then out the open doorway. Where _was_ he? Why had he just left?

Telling herself not to jump to conclusions, Rose took her time using the loo and brushing her teeth, hoping the Doctor would be back by the time she was done and that he hadn’t run off in an attempt to put distance between them after everything that happened last night. When she stepped out of the en-suite and there was still no sign of him, Rose took a deep breath and set off in search.

She bit her lip as she walked down the corridor, which seemed to twist on for a long moment without any doors in sight. When the familiar, closed door to the medbay appeared in front of her, she chewed on her thumbnail. Wouldn’t he have woken her had he wanted her company? After several long seconds, she braced herself, standing up straight, taking a breath, and pushing the door open as she stepped inside.

The Doctor’s back was to Rose as he hunched over the countertop across the room, shoulders tense as he seemed to be exerting a good deal of force on something in front of him. Before she could open her mouth to ask him what he was doing, Rose heard the Doctor grunt, followed by a series of very loud cracks -- cracks thats sounded an awful lot like breaking bones.

“Doctor!” she called, running toward him to help with whatever damage he may have done to himself.

“Good morning!” The Doctor spun around and grinned, brow furrowing as he read the concern on her face. “Everything all right?”

“That noise, I thought…” Rose stammered, trying to rectify the blood-curdling sound she’d just heard and the Doctor’s cheery expression.

“Ah,” the Doctor said, holding up ten pink fingers and wiggling them a few inches from her face. “That was just the disengagement mechanism on the left glove -- got a bit stuck.”

Rose smiled as she let out a steady breath, gently taking his hands in hers.

“How do they feel?”

“Brilliant! Good as new. Well, no, better than new -- new would be _bad_ \-- I’m not ready for new, not yet. Nope, just my same old manly hairy hands.”

Rose gave his hands a soft squeeze and turned them over, inspecting his skin as she carefully brushed her thumb over his palms.

“Could do with some lotion, though.”

“‘Moisturise me?’”

“Walked right into that one, didn’t I?” Rose laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, you did.” The Doctor’s gaze dropped from her face to their joined hands as he interlaced their fingers, a quiet moment passing between them. “Missed this. Your fingers twined with mine.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“What? When?”

“When you were in the bath, all loopy on that blue putty. Said my hands were small and soft, and you liked the feel of my fingers in yours.”

“You just said I asked you to play with my hair more.” The Doctor raised an accusatory eyebrow.

“Well, that too.”

Rose dropped his hands and looped her arms around his waist, stepping closer as she hugged him tightly. An instant later the Doctor’s arms were encompassing her, Rose grinning as she felt his bare hands smooth up and down her back.

“Glad you’re better,” she said, voice muffled by his shirt. “And that you’re not--” Rose cut off, wondering if she should voice the fear that settled over her when she woke up in bed without him.

“I’m not what?”

“Well.” She bit her lip, stepping back just enough to meet his eye. “Why didn’t you wait for me, to help with the gloves and all that? Were you not, I mean, was it too quick, us sleeping in your bed like that?”

“Rose,” the Doctor said, closing the gap between them so that she had to tilt her head up to see his face. “I didn’t want to wake you, and I had to get out of those gloves as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“So I could do this.”

The Doctor slowly slid one hand from its place on her back, trailing up her arm and across her shoulder until he gently cupped her cheek. As he ran the pad of his thumb across her skin Rose’s eyes fell shut, and a moment later she felt his lips on hers.

The kiss was chaste and soft, their lips coming together a few times as the Doctor threaded his fingers through her hair, but in spite of their slow pace the need began to simmer in Rose’s veins. Her hands clutched at the cotton fabric of his shirt and she hummed against him, gratefully opening her mouth to his when his tongue swiped across her lips.

After a few long moments, when Rose finally had to break away to catch her breath, she felt the his lips move against her cheek.

“And this.”

The Doctor dragged his other hand down her spine and around her waist, fingers ghosting across the strip of exposed skin between her pyjama bottoms and her t-shirt. Rose stood still, panting slightly, her eyes closed and her nose pressed against his cheek. She waited for his hand to chart a new path -- but after a few more tentative strokes the Doctor simply gripped her hip.

Turning his head, the Doctor found Rose’s lips again, kissing her just as passionately as before. In an attempt to egg him on, she loosened her hold on his shirt and snaked her hands under it, feeling his not-quite-hot skin beneath her fingers. When that didn’t work, she pulled away again, panting harder.

“What else?”

“Hmm,” the Doctor said, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Haven’t thought much further than this.”

“Liar.”

He moved back again to create some space between them, watching her face with hooded eyes and dipping his fingers beneath the hem of her shirt. He swirled them around her belly button and rippled them over her ribs before tracing the underside of her breast.

“This.” He stroked her skin there and watched her mouth fall open, fingers venturing higher and higher with each movement, but never touching quite where she wanted.

“What else?” She whimpered, pressing into his hand.

Rose watched the Doctor wet his bottom lip, felt his other fingers tighten their grip on her hair, before he finally circled his thumb around her already pebbled nipple.

“This,” he whispered, stroking steady orbits as Rose’s eyes fell closed.

A soft sound escaped from the back of her throat and her existence narrowed to the Doctor’s touch, nails digging his back through his t-shirt as her knees weakened. As if he sensed this he gripped her hips, guiding her backwards until she bumped into something solid. It took Rose a moment to realise it was the exam table.

“Jump.”

Realizing what he was after, she hopped upward and the Doctor lifted her onto the cushioned top. No sooner had she parted her legs for him was he between them, crushing his lips to hers as if they hadn’t touched in weeks.

Rose moaned, sinking into the kiss and circling her legs around his waist to pull him even closer. She gasped as she felt his hard length pressing into her.

“Oh god, Doctor,” she breathed, the once-simmering need now boiling over as he began to grind against her. “What else?”

“Well,” he said, trailing kisses from her jaw down to her collarbone, “there are a few options.”

“Oh?”

“Mm.” He brought one hand from her hip up underneath her shirt. “On the one hand…” He cupped her breast, ghosting his fingertips along the top, down the side, circling around and around, but refusing to touch her where she needed him most. She bit her lip, keeping herself quiet. “This is really, really nice. Very really. But on the other hand…” He tugged at her pyjama bottoms, taking a tiny step back until he could pull them off of her, and Rose lifted her hips, helping. He left her knickers on. “Ah. Yes. Much better.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. But there was something else, too. What was it?”

Tugging her to the edge of the exam table by her hips, he pulled back enough to sneak his hand under her shirt and stroke gently from her belly button down to the seam of her knickers and back again, capturing her lips in another kiss. He brought his other hand up to her neck, his kisses growing sweeter and slower until he seemed to be in no hurry whatsoever, content to stroke his fingers a little lower each time.

She felt her face grow warm, the heat spreading down into her chest and between her legs, as his fingers drifted closer to her clit with every slow path up and down. When he finally grazed over her most sensitive spot, the feel of soft cotton and softer pressure against her was enough to set her whole body tingling and she felt a trickle of moisture between her legs. She jerked against him and he did it again, his fingers moving from the skin just under her belly button in a straight line down the centre of her knickers. He let out a soft little breath at her whimper.

She broke away from his kiss, her breaths coming quickly, and was pleased -- overjoyed, even -- at the heated expression on his face as he moved his fingers again, simply watching her. She narrowed her eyes, looking down at his hand, and grabbed at the bottom of her shirt, pulling it off.

His hand stilled, and when she threw her shirt down onto the floor and found his eyes again, they were glazed, drifting from her face down to her stomach.

“What else?” Rose asked, looping a leg around his upper thigh.

He was still staring, and it seemed as though his gaze was being pulled to her knickers.

“Um.” He swallowed.

“Doctor?”

He licked his lips.

“Doctor, take my knickers off.”

“Right.” His eyes found hers again and he curled his fingers under the seam of her pants, peeling them off her. He dropped them somewhere she couldn’t see.

“What else?” she asked again.

“Lie back,” he said, voice hoarse, his hands settling on her hips. She complied, but propped herself up on her elbows to see what he was doing. He scooted her hips as close to the edge as he could and, after a few, long seconds of silence, dropped down to his knees, pushing her legs wide. He licked a firm line from her entrance to her clit and Rose cried out, hips bucking against his mouth, and threaded her fingers through his hair, rubbing his scalp. He let out a moan into her skin and began spreading wet, open mouthed kisses along her sex, tongue swirling, his fingers clenching and releasing on her hips. His motions sent tiny shockwaves of pleasure through her body, all the way from her scalp down into her toes, and she gasped out her pleasure, carding her fingers through his hair and reminding herself not to pull.

Moving one hand down to her inner thigh, he trailed a finger along her entrance and she felt herself clench, her body crying out for him. He paused for another second, dropping a kiss on the skin above her curls, and pressed a finger to her entrance, sliding his tongue along her clit at the same time as he sank his finger into her. She cursed, panting out a few harsh breaths, and he pulled his finger out just as slowly, adding another as he dipped back in.

He found a rhythm, fingers moving deftly, tongue slipping over her bundle of nerves, and the sensations began to build even more quickly, heat growing between her legs. He kept his tongue light against her, dancing over the tip of her clit, flicking faster to match the pace of his fingers. She thrashed, back arching, hips pressing up as she sought more contact from his mouth, but he pressed her down with his free hand and kept the motions of his tongue delicate.

Pleasure began to surge through her, her nerve endings even more sensitized at the light contact, and when he curled his fingers upward she shattered underneath him, calling out his name and clenching tight around his digits. He kept up his motions, bringing her down gently, until, a moment later, she rubbed her hand soothingly through his hair, pushing him away.

When he stood, his face was shining slightly, his eyes were very dark, and his chest was rising and falling quickly. Even from where Rose lay on the table she could see him straining against his pyjamas and she felt warmth begin to spread through her again.

“What else?” she asked, voice raspy.


	6. Chapter 6

The Doctor wiped his mouth against his shoulder, leaving a glistening smear on his white t-shirt, while his eyes took in Rose’s still heaving chest. She gaped up at him as he swiped at the corner of his smile with his wrist before running two fingers across his mouth. His tongue darted out to taste his skin before he pushed his fingers past his lips, humming around them.

“Doctor.”

“Mmpffh?”

Rose sat up straight on the foot of the exam table and captured the Doctor’s wrist, easing his fingers out of his mouth.

“‘S’that all?” She guided his hand to her breast and began to palm him where he was tenting his pyjama bottoms. “Or was there something else you wanted to do?”

The Doctor leaned into Rose’s hand and his jaw fell slack, his bottom lip sticking out in a way that she couldn’t help but grasp it between her teeth. She slipped her hand beneath his pyjama bottoms, pleased she’d not bothered to put pants on him the other day after his bath, and circled her fingers around his cock, stroking him long and slow.

Growling against her lips, the Doctor kissed her sloppily, trailing his hands down her body and along her thighs until he reached her knees. Tugging on her legs so Rose would link them around his waist, he stepped forward. She moved her hand from inside his trousers to to push his t-shirt up and off his body, desperate to feel more of his bare skin on hers.

Once the shirt was over his head and discarded on the floor, the Doctor’s lips were on hers again as he began to grind himself against her.

“Gonna take your trousers off?” Rose asked as his lips moved from her mouth to suck on the patch of skin beneath her ear. “Reckon that will feel even better.”

“Was hoping you’d do that bit.” The Doctor angled his hips so that he hit her clit and she gasped. “Did such a good job taking my pants off the other night.”

“Thought you didn’t remember that?” Rose gently grabbed his face and pushed him back just enough to meet his gaze, biting her lip at the sight of his heavy lidded eyes.

“It’s… a bit foggy. But you taking off my pants is not something easy to forget, painkillers or not.”

She giggled and leaned forward to kiss his shoulder, unable to resist biting down as she dipped her thumbs beneath the waistband of his pyjamas. Momentarily moving her legs from his waist, she carefully eased the trousers off his hips until she heard them drop to the floor.

“Mm, much better,” he said, gripping her hips as he slid his cock between her slick folds. “Wanted to do this to you yesterday on the sofa.” He slipped one hand under her arse while the other ghosted up her spine, giving her gooseflesh. “Wouldn’t be right if I couldn’t touch every inch of you.”

“Doctor,” Rose gasped, legs starting to shake. “Please.”

She snaked a hand between their bodies and guided his cock to her entrance, squeezing her eyes shut when he pushed into her about an inch before stopping. The Doctor leaned back and brushed his thumb along her cheek.

“Rose, I--”

One corner of his mouth crept upward into a shy smile and there was a vulnerability in his eyes. Rose recognized the look as the same one the hologram Doctor gave her at the end of the emergency programme message; the same one she’d seen him give her a handful of other times as well.

“Me too.” She squeezed his shoulders. “Doctor, me too.”

Rose leaned forward and nuzzled her nose against his before kissing him, their mouths coming together again and again. When she dragged her tongue across the seam of his lips the Doctor finally thrust into her, his fingers making dents in her skin. He paused for a moment and then rocked his hips forward again, filling her completely and making her cry out against his mouth.

Though she’d just come, Rose felt herself plunging toward the ledge once more as the Doctor continued to thrust into her in measured, long strokes. When she broke away from his mouth to catch her breath she caught a glimpse of the strain in his face, and she was suddenly taken with the desire to make him lose control.

Dropping her grip on his shoulders, she leaned back until she was lying against the incline of the exam table. She moaned at the change in friction this created, gripping the sides of the table as the Doctor’s cock hit her just _there_.

His hands tightened on her hips and his jaw fell slack again, eyes darting from her face to her breasts, which jiggled each time he slammed into her.

“Fuck, Doctor.” Rose dug her heels into his arse, urging him deeper. “Need your hand.”

As soon as his thumb grazed her clit she was coming hard, back arching off the table as he continued rubbing tight, strong circles on her sensitive skin. He shortened his strokes, the tip of his cock hitting her in just the right place over and over, drawing her orgasm out for what felt like ages.

Just as Rose’s cries began to quiet the Doctor’s moans joined hers, hips moving faster until he jolted forward, burying his face in her neck as he groaned through his orgasm.

Rose smoothed her hands over his back as his panting evened out against her skin. She turned her head and kissed his temple, the top of his sideburn tickling her cheek.

“Good call,” she said, laughing when she heard a muffled ‘what?’ come from his direction. “Waiting for your hands to heal. Can’t imagine doing this without them.”

The Doctor propped himself up on his elbows and grinned at her before peppering her jaw with wet kisses.

“Me neither.” He kissed her lips and her nose and each of her eyelids before leaning back to look at her again. “I’m just glad both our definitions of ‘slow’ matched up.”

“Same here. Though next time you could be a little less _slow_ taking your trousers off.”

“Next time that may not be necessary.”

The Doctor shifted his hips and Rose’s eyes widened at the feel of him hardening again inside her.

“Wow,” she breathed, swooping sensation rushing through her stomach. “But can we delay next time by, oh, about 20 minutes? I could really use a shower.”

“Sure.” The Doctor slipped out of her and stood, grabbing her hands to help her sit up. “Actually, could do with a bath myself.”

\--

Steam rose from the still water and hovered, suspended above the deep tub, before dissipating into the room. The Doctor stood back and, with a small smile, gestured towards it, telling Rose to go right ahead. She dipped one foot into the water, toes curling at the perfect temperature, and then slid in fully, taking a second to rest her head against the rim of the tub with a deeply contented sigh before she looked back at the Doctor.

He stood, arms folded, leaning against the counter next to the sink, evaluating her with a look that was so warm and affectionate that it made her stomach flip. His posture was casual, but his eyes flitted from her face down to her chest, all the way to her toes floating near the other edge of the tub, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his cock filled as he watched her.

“What’re you waiting for?” she asked, and lifted one hand out of the water to beckon him with a crooked finger.

A grin spread across his face and he bounded over, stepping into the water with enough enthusiasm to send waves crashing in her direction. He settled against the nearest side of the large tub, arms spread against the rim, and the sight of him was at once so familiar and so foreign that she found herself staring for several seconds too long, until he scooted close enough towards her to tug at her arm.

She half-swam to him, settling her head in the hollow of his shoulder and splaying a hand across his chest. He wrapped his left arm around her and rubbed her arm. The water had a light, floral scent from the powdered, latherless soap the Doctor had added, and Rose could feel it relaxing her muscles, as though the calming scent was seeping into her skin. She let herself melt into his embrace for a few peaceful moments. When she looked up at his face, he was staring off at nothing, eyes a bit glassy.

“All right, Doctor?”

“Yep. Great. Was… just thinking about before.” He gave her a sheepish grin and squeezed her closer. “It was…”

“Yeah. It was.” She pulled his hand off of her arm, bringing it close to her face and studying his fingertips. “They’re really all better?”

“Tip top shape.” He turned his head, looking at her with soft eyes, and wiggled his fingers against hers.

“Got all your.. what was it, sensory information?”

He paused and brought his other hand over, taking her left and rubbing his fingertips against her palm. “Hmm. Thirty seven degrees, recent flood of adrenaline and oxytocin, and could use a bit of sodium and B-vitamins.”

“Still can’t believe you can tell all that just by touching me.”

“Mm. Honestly, it was disconcerting, not to be able to check up on you, when I’m so used to doing so.”

He laced their fingers, bringing their entwined hands to his face, and kissed her knuckles, shooting her a mischievous grin. “Though I have other ways of checking up on things.”

She tilted her head. “What’s that?”

He gazed at her, head tilted down. “Other ways of… receiving sensory input. You might say.”

“Like what?” Rose asked, narrowing her eyes.

He kissed her knuckle again, then untangled their fingers and pressed his lips against her fingertips.

“Doctor?”

He toyed with her hand, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “I could smell what you’d got up to in my bed, of course. But… I thought perhaps you’d merely had a sex dream, so I couldn’t be certain.”

She coughed, feeling like she was choking on air, and turned her head, avoiding his eyes as her face heated.

“It wasn’t until I tasted your fingers that I confirmed my hypothesis.”

Her eyes widened and she turned to face him again, moving out of his embrace and sitting up straighter, though their hands were still lightly clasped together under the water. “You didn’t.”

He lifted his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth turning down, and he gave a small jerk of his head.

“You didn’t!” She smacked him lightly on the shoulder with her free hand. “Knew you meant to lick my fingers, but I didn’t even _think_ about… Oh my god.” She smacked him again. “You’re… you’re _bad_.”

He shrugged, smile growing.

“Wait. You… you can smell… _anytime_ I…”

He looked away and his cheeks reddened, the patches of colour spreading all the way down his neck. “Did I say…”

“How long have you been noticing that? Not since _before_?”

“Well, it’s hardly my fault that my sense of smell is so…”

She hid her face in her hand, mumbling into her palm. “Oh my god.”

He shifted his body towards her, squeezing her hand tighter. “You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about.”

She let out a long breath. “Blimey. Every time?”

He tugged her closer by their joined hands. “I _liked_ it, all right?”

“You…”

“Nearly had to excuse myself, when I saw you in my bed, smelling the way you did? Yes.”

“Oh.”

He leaned in, kissing her softly, then spoke in a whisper. “Seeing you, in my bed, wearing my shirt, face all flushed… You moved your hand away, under the covers. I could see it. And I wanted to give you mine, instead, to take up where you left off. Only I couldn’t.”

“Oh.”

“So don’t be embarrassed.”

She nodded, and squeezed his hand once more before releasing it. He cocked his head, brow furrowed, and opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

“Thought of something else you can use your hands for.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Remember? Want to feel your fingers in my hair.” She grabbed her favorite thirtieth century all-in-one shampoo, conditioner, and detangler, squirting a bit into her hand and lathering up. Corners of his mouth turned down, the Doctor leaned towards her, hands outstretched, but she laughed, shaking her head and dipping down into the water. She took a moment to run her fingers through her hair, removing the traces of shampoo, then sat up again. “Not what I meant. Just want to get clean and get out of here.”

He raised one eyebrow, looking puzzled, until both eyebrows shot up and his mouth formed a little ‘o.’

“There it is.” She smirked. “Do you need to wash?”

His eyes cleared and he shook his head as she offered him the shampoo. “Three times a week is the maximum and I’ve already washed it twice so far. Not to mention, since I didn’t style it yesterday, it really just needs to be blown dry, or maybe the Thesulian wax will do…” He trailed off as he caught her amused expression.

“No, go on.”

“Thought you were in a rush.”

“Right. Good point.” She stood, and his eyes followed the rivulets of water streaming down her shoulders and torso. Rose extended her hand. “Come on.”

\--

The shoddy brushes of towels against skin between wetter-than-usual kisses in the bathroom had left them damp against the sheets as they collapsed into his bed. Rose pushed him down onto his back, trailing hot kisses along his collarbone, across his chest, and down his stomach.

When she reached his cock, he was already hard, bobbing against his stomach, and she settled at his side, hovering over him, and gripping him with one hand as she brought her mouth down. The Doctor hissed when her lips touched his tip, hips arching before he quickly lowered them again, his fists clenching at his sides. She grabbed his wrist, bringing his hand to her wet hair, and he combed his fingers through it. Taking her time, she licked from the base of his shaft to the tip, repeating the motions until he let out a little whine and she took pity on him. Relaxing her jaw, she took him into her mouth and glided her lips up and down, sucking gently on every upward movement.

As her motions gradually grew quicker, so did his breaths, but his hand in her hair only became more gentle, fingers trailing through with unhurried movements belied by the tension in his legs and neck. Rose sped up with her mouth and moved her hand as well, swirling her tongue around his tip and twisting her hand against the part of his cock she couldn’t reach with her mouth.

He gasped under her, then stopped moving his hand all together, and she looked up at him only to find he was staring down at her, his face helpless and entranced. She sucked harder, moving her hand in quick spirals against him, licking the tip on every upstroke, and a moment later he broke, back arching as he shot into her mouth. She swallowed him down, working him through his orgasm, releasing him when he was quiet and still, apart from his slowing breaths.

When he looked down at her again, she let a slow smile spread across her face. His cock twitched in her hand. She looked down at it, watching him harden again.

“Do you want another?” she asked.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Rather than answer, Rose dipped her head and took him in her mouth once more, humming around him as she felt him thicken between her lips.

“Rose.”

She lowered her mouth as far as she could, letting him bump against the back of her throat and flexing those delicate muscles against the head of his cock, the Doctor’s low moan telling her he felt it.

“Rose.” This time her name was punctuated by the Doctor’s gentle fingers on her chin, prompting her to look up at him through her curtain of damp hair. “Come here.”

She released him with a soft pop, licking her lips as she crawled up his body until she was kneeling in front of him, one knee on each side of his hips.

“You like doing that?”

“Mhmm.” She nodded, biting the corner of her lip. “Want to see?”

Taking hold of his wrist, Rose guided his hand between her legs so he could feel how wet she already was. She watched his face, noticing the way his tongue pressed against the back of his front teeth, the way his eyes never wavered from the slow, teasing movements of his fingers.

“Oh god, tell me you’re not analysing more sensory data.”

“Wellllllll.” The Doctor met her gaze and quirked an eyebrow upward as he slid one finger into her. “Like I said, I can’t help it.”

Rose gripped his shoulders as he continued to slowly fuck her with one finger, trying her best to bite back a moan so as not to amplify the already smug look on his face.

“You’re .27 degrees warmer _here_.” He slid a second finger into her and the moan escaped past her lips. “Than, say, here.” The Doctor trailed his unengaged hand from where it was resting on her knee up her thigh and over her hip until it stilled just below her ribs.

“You’re wetter there, too, but any old hand could tell you that.” He changed the angle of his fingers so he was hitting that rough patch on her inner walls and Rose gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck for more support. He nibbled at her earlobe before continuing. “But you wouldn’t believe what naughty things your hormones are telling me as they slide beneath my fingertips. Like, for example, they suggest that parts of you may be erect.”

The Doctor pinched her left nipple at the same time that he rubbed his thumb along her clit, making Rose bite down on his shoulder as she cried out.

“Like, for another example,” he went on, breath cool against her ear, “that you’d rather be clenching around something other than my fingers.”

It took Rose a moment to register his words as he continued to please her, his thumb moving in firm, quick circles as she ground down on his hand. She was so close, just nearly there, like she had been in her dream yesterday morning. Except this time reality could surpass even her best fantasy.

Taking a shaky breath, she pushed his hand away and shimmied even closer until her breasts where pressing into his chest. The Doctor gripped her hips as Rose reached behind her, sloppily stroking his cock a few times before lining him up with her entrance. Then she paused, remembering something she should have mentioned earlier.

“By the way, I’m on birth control, so we’re sorted.”

“Oh, I know.”

When Rose’s brow furrowed the Doctor held up one hand, wiggling his fingertips in front of her. She laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Of course.”

She began to sink down on him when she remembered the last time she’d straddled his lap like this.

“Doctor,” she breathed, stopping with him just a couple inches inside her. His eyes flew open and his fingers flexed against her hips, but he didn’t try to urge her down. “You are touching me.”

“Um… I know?”

“No, I mean, in the media room yesterday.” She grinned at his knit brow. “We were just like this, well, nearly, and your hands were where they are now, and that’s when you said--”

“Wish I could touch you.” The Doctor smiled before moving to capture her lips in a deep kiss. “Wanted to really _feel_ you.”

His fingers flexed against her hips again and he began to ease her down on his cock, breath catching once he was fully inside her. Rose dove her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and started to move in short, quick strokes.

“And how do I feel, Doctor?”

She rested her forehead against his as her hips continued their movements with the help of his hands, circling and grinding down on him in a way that rubbed her clit against him, bringing Rose just as close as she had been a few moments ago.

“ _Brilliant_.”

He wedged one hand between them, pressing hard against Rose’s clit and, _fuck_ , she was coming, squeezing around him as she moaned into his neck. The Doctor’s remaining hand on her waist helped her keep up a steady rhythm until he tensed up too, grunting into her hair, his hips straining upward as he pumped everything into her.

They stayed where they were for a moment, Rose holding him close as their breathing slowed. The Doctor was able to fish some tissues out of his nightstand without getting up, handing one to Rose and taking one for himself. Once they were tidied up and he’d successfully tossed the tissues jump-shot style into the bin across the room, they lay down on top of the duvet facing one another.

The Doctor smiled, trailing one hand across Rose’s collarbone, over her shoulder, and down her arm all the way to her fingertips before starting its return path.

“Mm, feels nice.” She snuggled closer, snaking a leg between his and draping her arm across his waist.

“Making up for lost time.”

“You mean while you couldn’t use your hands, or all the time we spent… not doing this?”

“Both.”

Rose kissed his neck, humming as his fingers moved to glide down her spine. Hugging him tighter, she marveled at the fact that it took the Doctor’s hands getting crushed for them to break down their own barriers so he could touch her like this.

“Doctor?”

“Hmm?”

“When you sent me away on the Game Station, that was emergency programme one…”

“Yeah.”

“And then the other day, it was emergency programme seventeen.”

“Mhmm.”

“So, what happens on emergency programmes two through sixteen, then?”

“Ehrm.” The Doctor coughed, moving one hand from her back to tug at his hair. “Oh, just… things?”

“Uh-huh. And when did you come up with all these _things_?”

“Well, some are from before when I was, you know, with the leather and the ears. And then some are… more recent. You sleep for an awfully long time, Rose Tyler, giving me plenty of opportunity to imagine all the different ways I could…”

The Doctor sighed and rolled onto his back, the arm still around Rose bringing her with him so her cheek rested on his shoulder, her knee bent over his thigh.

“You could what?”

“Lose you.”

She propped herself up on one elbow to look at him, tears prickling the backs of her eyes at the vulnerability written across his face. She kissed him tenderly, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around her waist, hands splayed on either side of her ribcage.

“Doctor?” Rose asked when she finally had to break away.

“Yeah?”

“Seventeen isn’t the last one, is it?”

“Wellllll…”

“Oh come on, how many are there?”

“Promise you won’t be cross?” The Doctor kissed the tip of her nose.

“Promise,” she laughed.

“Three hundred and twenty-six.”

Rose frowned at the thought of him recording each of those on his own, saying goodbye to her hundreds of times. She tilted her head up and kissed him for several long moments, running her fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she said when they finally broke apart. “Must’ve been difficult.”

The Doctor hummed and held her closer.

“Am I really that disaster-prone that you could think of over 300 reasons why I’d need to be sent away?” The Doctor made a noncommittal noise and Rose’s eyes narrowed, finger playfully jabbing his side. “Hey, wait a minute. Are they all to do with me? Or are some, say, for when you go into a panic when we run out of bananas?”

The Doctor laughed and rolled on top of her, fingers dancing along her ribs.

“Oi, I’d say that constitutes an emergency. Just be glad I haven’t made any for those times we need to escape from your mother’s cooking -- talk about poison gas!”

Rose collapsed into a fit of giggles while he continued to tickle her until she promised they’d come up with an emergency programme for that very scenario, together.


End file.
